9 The Happy Event #3
You had a magnetic gaze, the same one I’d seen in your photos the first few times we’d spoken.
Looking at me seriously, you whispered, “Enough is enough; I can’t take it anymore. I want you so badly I’m going crazy, and this time, your unfounded fears won’t stop me!”
Maybe that was exactly what I needed, but I wasn’t ready to admit it yet.
My innate rebellious streak made me try in vain to get you to loosen your grip.
When I failed, I started laughing, and you—who hadn’t expected such a reaction from me at all—asked me what was going on.
I replied that I’d been reminded of a movie starring Giancarlo Giannini set on a deserted island where he’d been shipwrecked with an aristocrat.
“Good idea,” you replied seriously, holding me even tighter so I couldn’t get up. “Tell me you love me,” you commanded.
“I love you,” I replied.
“I didn’t hear you—say it again.”
You were driving me to the brink of madness, and I wanted to scream it at you, but instead of telling you I loved you, I asked you to make love to me, blushing immediately after hearing my own words.
“Ask me again,” you replied brazenly.
Good heavens, you were going crazy too… but you didn’t give me time to say anything else.
In my confused mind, I felt as if I were on a journey to paradise, and what little clarity I had left made me swear to myself that I would devote my life to making you happy.
Your lips spoke without making a sound, and the voice of your soul penetrated beneath my skin without causing any pain.
Luckily, I’d fallen back into the habit of biting my nails; otherwise, I would have sunk them into your flesh in an attempt to stop the wave of emotions that was about to overwhelm me. I realized you were intentionally about to immerse me in a sea of sublime pleasure.
That night, the chirping of the geckos mingled with our sighs, creating a melody of love and passion worthy of a dream destined not to be relegated to the drawer of memories.
The surprises were far from over. I had unconsciously sparked in you the desire to feel me as yours, and you gave me no respite, taking my breath away with every beat of my heart.
My timid attempts to catch my breath were in vain: I felt loved and desired just as I had always dreamed.
Reality was dangerously surpassing fantasy and intoxicating me.
I could sense my fears fading into the distance; the fear of losing you was just a bad memory, and I had become my own dream—all too real.
You loosened your grip just as dawn was breaking. The sky was turning shades of violet, pink, and indigo, while the fish were beginning to dance again on the surface of the sea. I felt cold, and you embraced me, kissing me on the head and calling me “baby.”
If I’d had a tail, I think I would have wagged it at that moment, so at peace did I feel with the world—and above all, with myself.
I wondered how I could have ever formed such a wrong impression of you.
In my eyes, you had revealed yourself to be an angel who loved me madly.
I shouldn’t have harbored any doubts about you; you had always been perfect with me, and even if a cloud sometimes passed over your eyes, a single sigh from me was enough to dispel it instantly, revealing a gaze that captivated me every time I lost myself in it.
“Did you like the surprise camping trip?” I asked you innocently.
“If you have any doubts, I can prove it to you again,” you replied slyly.
The sun was rising at our feet, and I wanted to enjoy the spectacle directly through your eyes—a bit like watching a solar eclipse, even though I was realizing I was looking at the sun through the eyes of your soul.
It was time to return to the beach where they’d left us the night before.
We walked listlessly among the crabs that were hurriedly closing their nighttime burrows, racing to see who would dive first into the crystal-clear waters of a marvelous lagoon.
Once we returned to where we’d started, we began opening the boxes that contained everything we needed to survive for two days on a deserted island.
We took out: matches, pots, salt, oil, rice, canned beans, fresh fruit, a tent, towels, fishing line and hooks, a knife, drinking water, soap, and other very useful items.
Discovering this treasure was making you happy, and my tension began to ease.
I set off along the shore, looking for some bait that would come in handy for fishing.
Digging around a bit at random in the damp sand, I found some small red worms, which I used to bait the hooks.
The response to our efforts turned out to be quite unexpected, and the number of fish we managed to pull out of the water in such a short time led us to believe they hadn’t eaten for at least two days.
We divided up the tasks: I took care of cleaning the fish right in the water, while you walked off to gather wood to start a fire. Luckily, we’d been given matches, and soon a bonfire was crackling merrily in the middle of a circle of stones.
The impromptu lunch turned out to be the most delicious of the entire vacation. I felt like a wild woman, loved by a handsome pirate who had stolen my heart.
After we’d eaten, we pitched the tent under a cluster of palm trees. I wanted the tent’s opening to face the sea so we could watch the moon rise together that evening.
We had nothing else to do, so we spent the afternoon lying in the sun. Your skin was taking on an amber hue, even though you’d insisted time and again that you’d never tan.
The day was drawing to a close. We’d even found time to sleep in each other’s arms in the tent, cooled by the gentle breeze that blew in intermittently through the opening.
We stoked the fire and prepared dinner of rice and lentils.
By then, the glow of the bonfire was blending with the last rays of the sun.
We stayed by the fire until all that remained of us were our flickering shadows, weaving an enchanting dance.
The faint lapping of the sea was the only muffled sound on the entire island.
I could feel deep down that you wanted to talk, and I hoped it wasn’t anything serious.
You knew I didn’t want to be dragged back down to Earth by my thoughts, and I hoped you’d remember that.
I didn’t want to break that spell, so I simply held you close.
We both knew that words were often unnecessary between us, even though we still had so much to say to each other.
I decided to ask if there was anything you wanted to tell me, and you were surprised by my unusual question, even though I’d told you many times that I could sense people’s thoughts.
We looked at each other for a long time; I didn’t expect you to speak to me, and in fact, you simply brushed your lips against mine.
Maybe you were reacting just right, and honestly, for that evening, words could have gone to hell.
A sudden and unexpected storm forced us to take shelter quickly inside the tent.
Shivering, we slipped into our sleeping bags.
Our bodies were burning hot from the sun, but I was still cold—perhaps because of you, as you traced the contours of my body with your finger, leaving a trail of shivers in your wake.
The rain pounded on the tent, mingling with our breaths.
My mind wandered as best it could among our sighs, the daring caresses, and the silences heavy with forbidden thoughts, and I was thinking that you were better than a sleeping bag.
You were softer and warmer, and you molded under my hands only to return to your own shape.
I realized I’d never had thoughts like that before; you were turning me into something I’d never been.
You were opening the doors to your world for me, and I was tiptoeing inside as you beckoned me to follow you.
It was a world different from mine, which, after all, was just a childish hiding place.
Your world was soothing, yet also incredibly real.
By trusting you, I was, in a sense, leaving the nest, becoming aware of my status as a woman, and realizing that I could never go back.
Kissing you in those moments made me lose touch with reality because of the overwhelming emotions I felt.
Now I knew what it meant to be one person as two, and I would never forget it.
The rain kept falling relentlessly, singing a sweet melody that accompanied our whispered words.
The only thought that was consuming me was the realization that I would love you for the rest of my life, and if for some reason that weren’t possible, I would spend my life writing about our love, so that the world would know that love truly exists.
I would have written about how all it took was to approach it with humility and a deep desire to forget one’s own existence in order to give oneself completely to the other person.
I had fallen asleep in your arms, knowing that I would never suffer again; you were my Tara, my land worth fighting for—the one that would keep me alive. Now my thoughts had a reason to exist.